Shattered
by CorabelleCreations
Summary: The Helicarrier's are destroyed and the Winter Soldier is on the run. With the memories of the past consuming his mind, he never expected to stumble across someone help him piece it together. They both have their own puzzles to solve but one cannot be completed without the other. They're both about to find out how haunting the past can be, and HYDRA is going to make sure of it.
1. Chapter 1

The Winter Soldier winced as he pushed himself along the edge of the riverbank. He could hear the commotion of helicopters in the distance and made a beeline for the forest to hide him from the eyes above.

The terrain was horrendous, he could feel the bones of his body rapidly crumbling with every step while his mind was like rush hour at King's Cross Station. He could hardly focus on his footwork as the reality and past kept flashing across his vision.

He saved the man from the bridge – but why? He remembered him – but how? Why was he sent to assassinate a man that was ready to embrace it?

He collapsed onto a tree and gritted his teeth against the pain. He was about ready to accept the defeat and spend the afternoon right there, when he looked up and saw a rusty wooden shack half concealed by the forest.

He pushed himself off of the tree and staggered towards the shed. He unsheathed his blade, ready to attack should anyone try.

With his back against the outside wall of the shack, he peered into the only open window beside the door for any signs of life. It appeared to be dusty and abandoned. He slowly pushed open the door to reveal a two roomed shack with a few crates stacked to the side.

He staggered to the second room that was only a few feet away from the entrance and collapsed against the wall. He slid down to a stationary position seated on the floor facing the entrance.

He continued to think about the man that he had just risked his life for. He had many questions about what took place that afternoon. But before the thoughts could consume him, they all vanished into darkness as he subsided into a deep sleep.

* * *

Helicopter's roared over the terrain as Lucy was walking back to her home after caring for Mr Jones. _Well, he definitely will not be getting his sleep this afternoon_ she thought.

It saddened her to think that she would not be looking after him for much longer. Within the next few weeks he would be moving to Carlisle Gardens – an old people's home. Until then she was doing her usual care for him as well as packing and sorting his belongings for the big move.

When she wasn't caring for Mr Jones, she was at home or in a remote area on her small property creating art. Today she felt like visiting her favourite place in the forest – the shack. Something about the shack made her create art to her full potential.

Lucy had just arrived at the doorstep to the house when she noticed heavy smoke in the air that appeared to be coming from the river a couple of miles away. This sort of sight was quite common on the outskirts of New York City. Nonetheless, she stepped inside and turned on the TV hoping for some sort of explanation on what was happening.

Live aerial footage of crushed buildings, fires, debris and scared citizens were on the TV screen. So far they are uncertain of the cause, but the public is being advised to remain calm and stay within their homes.

It reminded her of the battle of New York that occurred two years ago where the Avenger's fought to prevent an alien attack. Her heart warmed as she thought of how selfless the Avengers were – sacrificing their lives for the peace of everyone else's. She quickly turned off the TV before the media attempted to convince the public otherwise.

She dropped her backpack on the couch to assemble the necessities she would need for going to the shack. She felt particularly motivated to practice with charcoals today so she neatly packed them at the bottom of her bag beside her art journal. She then wandered around the small house gathering food, water and a blanket. It got quite cold in the shack, so she made sure that she wasn't going to make the same mistake on forgetting it again.

Lucy grabbed her now full backpack, then left the home she just returned to and began her trek towards the forest.

Only a few minutes had passed when she noticed that something about the atmosphere in the forest was different. She could only put it down to the devastation that was happening close by. At least she thought so, before she turned the corner to see the door to her shack was shut.

She was always careful with how she left things – her past had taught her to do so – and she never left the door to the shack closed. She haltered and scanned the environment for further discrepancies. The sun rays broke through the tree tops causing a substance on the ground to reflect light. Fear caught her unexpectedly when she realised that the substance was blood.

Her mind began to flood with the countless possibilities of someone or something in her shack. Although she quickly deduced that due to the evidence of blood loss, medical attention was necessary. Thankfully she kept a first aid kit inside one of the crates in the shack.

However that isn't going to offer much defence if the intruder was dangerous. She saw a thick, small stick with a pointed end lay on the ground. She hastily grabbed the stick and gripped it with two hands against her chest. She then quietly progressed towards the shack listening for any sounds of movement.

She regretted not taking the wooden boards off all the windows since she started visiting the shack. She made her way to the only open window beside the door and glanced inside. Nothing. It was untouched. Still in the condition that she had left it when she last visited. She gripped the handle and turned softly as the door opened with a slow groan.

Securing her grip on the stick, she stepped inside and mentally prepared herself for a hidden attack. The air inside the shack still had its sense of tranquillity. That was until she turned to see a bloodied man sitting against the wall.

Fear and surprise consumed her simultaneously as she took in the sight that she was seeing. It was not that it was an injured man that had sent her over the edge, but it was the fact that he had a threateningly large, silver metal left arm.

Lucy froze at the sight of the arm, she had never seen anything like it before. She studied it intently noting the red star at the top of the shoulder and the dried blood on the finger tips. It was mesmerising how each plate seamlessly connected to the others around it. The arm as a whole reminded her a shiny suit of armour.

She snapped her attention away from the arm and back to the man himself. He was dressed in a heavily fitted black suit. Beside his right thigh lay a black combat knife. From previous experience with men dressed in black, she decided to keep her distance and analyse his medical condition from afar.

His long hair appeared to be damp, some strands stuck to his face whereas the rest were leading in different directions. Dried blood was scattered across his face and on the knuckles of both arms. His _real_ left arm rest awkwardly on his thighs which suggested that something could be wrong with it. His chest slowly rose and sunk meaning that he wasn't dead. _Thank God,_ she thought. The last thing she'd want is a dead man in her shack.

Now Lucy faced the decision on what to do, leave the shack and pretend that she never saw the man to begin with, or stay and face the possibility that he could very well harm, or even kill her...


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy's body froze as her mind flashed through the possibilities that the man could be capable of. She had to decide if she was going to stay, or leave the injured man to fend for himself. She clutched the stick in both hands and let out a quick sigh. The thought that she was condemning the health of this man because of his gruff appearance disgusted her.

Admitting defeat, she placed the stick on top of the nearby crate and took a brave step towards the wall adjacent to the man. While watching the man for any signs of disturbance, she silently slipped off her backpack and crouched down with her back against the wall.

She unzipped the backpack to be greeted with 3 things that she was craving - food, water and warmth. She didn't eat when she got home, which is why the muesli bar and bottle of water were looking wonderfully luscious sitting on top of the neatly folded blanket. Her gaze shifted between the backpack and the man.

The man's clothing appeared to be damp, which probably meant that he is going to be quite cold, not to mention he was most likely going to wake up dehydrated and hungry.

She grabbed the contents out of her bag and awkwardly shifted towards him. She hesitated briefly before placing the items beside his feet. She didn't want to be too close to him if he woke up, and therefore decided his feet would be close enough.

She then returned back to her wall and began to study the man more. Upon closer inspection his face looked tortured, nothing what you'd expect on a dangerous man. She found his metal arm and face so beautifully intriguing, she pulled out her art book and charcoals and began to draw him. From the soft bristle of his beard, to the wildness of his hair. Her eyes flickered between book and reality - creativity flowing through her fingertips and onto the pages.

Her favorite part was drawing the silver metal arm. To achieve the way the light reflected off each panel, she used her finger tips to slightly smudge the area causing the tips of her fingers to turn black from the charcoal.

After completing the sketch, she looked at it objectively fixing a few loose ends. Something was missing and she couldn't quite pin what it was. She slipped her bangs behind her ears, turned the page and started another.

The Winter Soldier was trapped in the horror of flashbacks featuring unfamiliar faces, voices and scenery. Some with a scrawny young boy, men with guns and some with people screaming to their deaths by his hands. He could feel cold streams of sweat slither down his temples as the images flickered through one after another.

Suddenly all of his senses returned at once. His eyes open and wild, he hastily grabbed for the blade beside his leg. His movement so abrupt caused a girl across from him to jump dropping a book from her lap. His heart was racing, body prepared to annihilate the possible threat. However somewhere in his brain, something was screaming no.

His heart beat began to slow as he noticed the pages of the fallen book. They were charcoal drawings of his metal arm and his face. His mind flew back to other memories of a blonde boy drawing followed by laughter. He clenched at the pain, gripping his blade just a little tighter.

Lucy curled into the wall, digging her nails into her legs. Regret and fear were consuming her, resulting in the inability for her to think straight. _Say something, just say something_ she thought. She gulped forcefully before working the courage to finally speak.

" _H-hi..."_ she murmured.

Disappointed hit her in the face like a brick wall. There is a man in front of her exhibiting the signs of a panic attack - while holding a knife - and all she could manage was _hi._

The man instantly turned his attention to her, eyes pouring into her soul watching her like prey. Her fingertips began to fiddle with the laces on her shoe before working the courage to speak some more.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind, you arm is very beautiful, my art sense kind of took over..." she mumbled finding it very difficult to look into his piercing eyes.

 _Beautiful,_ the word took a few seconds to skin in. His arm was used as a weapon of destruction and death, how could it ever be _beautiful._ He glanced away at the ground to decode the meaning for the word, until he noticed some items beside his foot. He squinted suspiciously at the bottle, bar and blanket.

Lucy noticed that he was staring at the items she had left for him, "I haven't done anything to them, I swear, the seal on the bottle isn't even broken," she interrupted believing that she had to prove herself for him to know she wasn't a threat.

The man shifted his gaze back to the girl. He didn't like her hospitality, he found it questionable, and he was hardly in the mood to deal with any odd activity. He gripped his blade a little tighter and shifted himself to get up from his position. However his body objected, his right arm and ribs screamed in pain resulting in him falling back to the ground. He mentally examined his body and deduced that he must have a broken arm and a few broken ribs. After all, he did just have a beam fall on top of him.

Lucy outstretched her arms to help him, but he fortified himself with his blade. Lucy surrendered backwards and sighed.

"I'm a train nurse, I can help you," she said confidently.

Frozen in his attack stance, he analysed the situation. He knew better than to accept help from strangers, but it looked like he didn't have many options. It wasn't as if he could stroll back to HYDRA and expect professional health treatment - he suspected they were all dead. Even if they weren't, they were probably out there waiting to punish him for failing his mission.

He studied her carefully looking for any signs for him to distrust her, but to no avail. She did not show any signs that he was so used to seeing in other people.

After what felt like minutes of silence, the man dropped the blade and pushed it away with his metal arm. Lucy let out a sigh of relief and smiled. The man broke eye contact and looked off to the side, something about her happiness made it unbearable to look at her for too long.

"I'm just going to grab my first aid kit from the crate behind me, okay?" she informed as she got up and turned to the crate behind her and pulled out the first aid kit.

The man watched her as she swiftly moved towards him and knelt beside him. She had a pale freckled complexion with deep brown red hair pulled into a pony tail. She had a black smudge above her eyebrow, judging from her black finger tips it looks like she accidentally smudged her face with black powder.

Lucy's persona completely changed from the frightful little girl she was before, to ultimate nurse mode. She did a quick analysis of the man for any serious visible damage. His face and knuckles were covered in cuts and grazes, and judging from the position of his arm, it looked to be badly damaged.

"It'd be much easier to help you if you didn't have the top of your suit on," she mumbled feeling slightly embarrassed.

With no hesitation the man began to unbuckle his suit but sharply inhaled with pain at his right arm.

"Do you need a hand, I can help..." she said. However the man pushed through the pain and stubbornly took off the top half of suit - with difficult.

Lucy's mouth fell open when she saw the swelling and massive bruise forming along his ribs and stomach. Multiple ribs were definitely broken, that much was visible. The swelling was seriously concerning, and his arm was most definitely broken.

"Y-you need to go to a hospital, I can't-"

"No. No hospitals," he instructed.

It was the first time Lucy heard him speak, his voice was deceivingly deep and soft. The man avoided eye contact with the girl and fixated his attention on the pattern of the floor boards.

"But I don't have the equipment to fix you," she mumbled also directing her gaze to the floor boards, accepting the possibility that she may not be able to help this man at all. Despite all of her training telling her to call an ambulance.

"Then make do with what you have," he murmured shifting his eyes to the small first aid kit. It was only a very basic first aid kit, a bandage, scissors, disinfectant, pain killers and a couple of band aids. Even he knew very little could be done with that equipment. The equipment she needed was at her house, which the man was in no condition to get to.

"I have more equipment at my house, it's only a five minute walk and I'll be straight back," she informed zipping back up her mediocre first aid kit in front of her.

The man normally wouldn't support this sort of action, she could easily call the authorities, or even worse, she could get HYDRA. But something about the girl reassured him that she wouldn't do either of those things. Instead of testifying, he simply nodded his head once in agreement.

Lucy rose from her position, grabbed her backpack and swung it over her shoulders. She hesitated at the exit and held the door ajar, studying the man one last time.

"My name is Lucy by the way, Lucy Hill," she mumbled reverting her gaze to the floor boards.

 _Name,_ what was his name? He had been called many things in the past week, he wasn't sure himself. The blonde man had called him Bucky as well as James Buchanan Barnes, HYDRA had called him Asset, others knew him as The Winter Soldier. But who was he really?

"Bucky," he whispered, "just Bucky," he announced raising his gaze to look her directly in the eyes.

Something about his grey blue eyes looked so torn and haunted, something that she was so experienced in feeling. Lucy smiled genuinely, "Nice to meet you, _just Bucky_ , I will be back within half an hour," she beamed before walking out the door and gently shutting it behind her.

Lucy battled the temptation to look back as she walked away from the shack. The sight of seeing the shack empty would dishearten her. Because a distant part of her was scared that he would leave while she was gone...

 **Ta-dah! Second chapter completed! I have big plans for Lucy and Bucky, can't wait to get there haha! If you've read this far, thank-you so much for sticking around! It's my first Fan fiction that I've ever written, so I hope it's okay.. :)**

 **Now onto reviews from the previous chapter!**

 **Elksong: Thank-you so much! I hope you continue to think that it's good! Haha :D**

 **CRRB: I'm glad that you like the idea of a blurry past! I intended to make his past haunt him a fair bit in this story - so prepare for more blurriness! Haha XD**


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was nearing to sunset as Lucy walked back to the house. She quickened her pace in hope that she would arrive soon so she didn't have to walk back to the shack at night.

She thought of how uncertain Bucky seemed when he said his name. It was as if he didn't know his own name himself, or perhaps he was trying to hide his real identity. Nonetheless she knew better than to pry and decided to leave the matter alone.

To distract herself from her inability to trust Bucky, she listed the items that she would need to look after him. She'd need medical equipment and frozen packets to cater for his injuries. More bottled water, and some food for Bucky to eat. Lucy mentally chanted the list to ensure she wouldn't forget anything when she reached home.

When Lucy finally arrived at the doorstep of her isolated home, she immediately zipped through the house to collect the items on her mental list.

She began in the bathroom where she was greeted to her hospital grade pharmacy cabinet containing exactly what she wanted _and more_. Her history and nursing career taught her to always be prepared – however all the preparation in the world would never have foreseen a man with a broken arm and ribs in her shack.

As she collected the items on her list, she thought of any other items she could take with her. She assumed that Bucky would be spending the night and remembered what it was like to sleep with broken bones, it was very uncomfortable and painful without a pillow. So she went and grabbed one of the two pillows from her bed so that Bucky would have some sort of comfort as he slept.

After that, she returned to the final item on her list, food. She managed to find some leftover lasagne from last night, and decided placed it in the microwave. As she waited for the meal to heat, she packed a few utensils for Bucky to eat with and wrapped the frozen vegetable packets in a towel to keep them frozen for longer.

After the microwave signaled the food was ready, Lucy was met with the difficult task on fitting everything in the bag. There was no way the pillow was going to fit, after accepting the fact that she would have to carry it, she slipped her backpack over her shoulder and walked towards the back door. She grabbed her battery lantern off the table, holding the pillow in the other arm, locked the door and left again for the shack.

It got eerily quiet inside the small shack after Lucy left. Bucky didn't care much for small, quiet spaces. They reminded him of the cells at HYDRA camps, and the treatment he received. His metal fingers gripped into the palm of his hand trying to distract him from the painful memories.

He wasn't ready to remember, not yet – he didn't want to. He wasn't ready to face the horrible things he had done, or the wonderful things that were taken away from him.

He frantically sought for a distraction until he found the opened drawing book on the floor. Pushing through the pain he reached forward and grabbed it with his metal arm. He lay it on open his lap, studying the drawings that he assumed Lucy had done.

He saw more memories of a blonde boy drawing as he flicked through the pages. There were beautiful, detailed drawings of animals, landscapes, and some of an old man. A spark of familiarity flared as he studied the drawings of the old man, but he couldn't explain why he had that feeling.

Bucky flicked back to the drawings of him and his metal arm, studying them more intently. He could feel the memories beginning to pile at his doorstep – falling, scientists standing around him and the smell of burning metal. His chest began to tighten and his breathing became shallow. His thought process was interrupted when there was slight tap on the shack door.

"It's just me, Lucy, can I come in?" announced the quiet voice. He dropped the book beside his lap and mumbled, "Yes," shaking away the evidence of what just happened.

The door slowly creaked open, and Lucy stepped inside. She noticed her drawing book on the floor beside Bucky, and wondered if he had removed the drawings she had done of him. Brushing the thought aside, she walked over and carefully crouched beside Bucky.

"This is for you," placing the pillow beside him, "I also brought some dinner for you as well," she added as she pulled out the items in her bag sorting them neatly in front of her. She turned on the lantern and placed it between her and Bucky so she could clearly see the damage she needed to fix.

Lucy unwrapped the frozen vegetable packets from the towel, "these will help with the swelling, it may get cold," she said before placing two packets on his stomach. To Lucy's surprise, Bucky showed no reaction from the frozen packets, his eyes remained glued across the room.

She put on a pair of gloves and soaked the gauze with disinfectant ready to cleanse all the cuts and grazes on Bucky's chest, arm and face. She made sure to notify him at every move she made as she did not want to give him any reason to distrust her.

Bucky continued to stare emotionless at the distant wall. He was used to being medically catered for, however this time he didn't have several bodyguards with guns pointed at him. He'd never had a medic so considerate, they normally did their job without communication.

Lucy took great care in being gentle at treating the cuts, she gradually moved up his arm, to his chest, and finally reached his face. She paused, examining the best place to start.

Bucky noticed her hesitation and looked her directly in the eyes. He noticed that Lucy had alarmingly bright hazel eyes that shifted immediately as he looked into them.

Lucy found Bucky's gaze incredibly intimidating, she couldn't maintain eye contact with him for long. There was no way she could work on his face if he was going to be watching her with two piercing blue grey eyes.

"I need you to close your eyes so I can clean the cuts on your face," she murmured, braving his stare to look him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed, perhaps he noticed her incapability to look him in the eye and found it suspicious. To her surprise, Bucky closed his eyes.

She internally sighed with relief and began to work on the cuts on his chin. Strands of his hair were getting caught in the process, so she gently brushed them behind his ear.

Bucky flinched slightly at her touch, he wasn't used to gentle care, he was more accustomed to brutality.

A few minutes passed, and Lucy was pleased that all the cuts were disinfected. Her attention now moved to the swelling. She gently lifted the frozen vegetables off of his stomach to reveal a pleasant surprise.

"Well I think my frozen peas did a good job, the swelling has gone down," she announced while smiling. The amount of swelling he had before was rather concerning, however thankfully it went down quickly, suspiciously quickly.

"Time to bandage it, and I'll bandage your arm and give it a sling as well," she said grabbing the first bandage and unwrapping it from its package.

Bucky glared at the bandages, he hated being bandaged up. He loathed the restriction of the bandages, but he knew they were necessary for healing.

"Don't worry, I hate them too," mumbled Lucy, noticing his disgust at the bandages.

Bucky stared at the wall as Lucy wrapped his arm with the first bandage, he wondered what kind of experience Lucy had on wearing them – and why.

About ten minutes passed and Lucy examined Bucky one last time. He looked awfully like a pup that had just visited the vet and left with the cone. He really did not like the sling, or the bandages, that much was evident.

Lucy smiled and nodded happily, "dinner time," she said, grabbing the container of lasagna as well as a knife and fork. She placed them, the container and a bottle of water in front of him.

"Lasagna, made by me," she informed, opening the lid filling the shack with its delicious aroma. She cut the lasagna up into bite sized pieces so Bucky would be able to eat them with a fork. When she was done, she set the fork on top of the food and waited patiently for Bucky to eat.

He cautiously grabbed the fork and pierced a small piece and brought it to his mouth and chewed slowly. He hadn't eaten in what felt like days, and the meal was the best he ever tasted. Well, as far as he knew.

While Bucky ate, Lucy cleaned and packed away the items she brought with her. Once he had finished, Lucy gathered the cutlery and put them in her bag to take home and clean.

"Well, what do you like to eat for breakfast, I can cook it and bring it here in the morning," she asked breaking the silence. His face was blank, and confused, as if he had never been asked that question before.

"How about bacon, eggs and toast?" she suggested.

Bucky had never been asked what he wanted for breakfast, he was always given a tray to eat, or left to starve. The idea of having options to eat for breakfast seemed impossible – especially bacon, eggs and toast. He finally nodded at Lucy's suggestion.

"Okay, well I'll be back in the morning," she spoke softly as she grabbed the pillow and blanket and handed them to Bucky, "make sure you drink plenty of water, you need to stay hydrated," she continued as she placed two bottles of water beside him.

"And I'll leave the lantern here so you can see during the night," she said patting the lamp. She grabbed her bag, stood up and took one last look at her patient.

She was glad that she faced the courage to help Bucky even though his appearance came across as threatening. His face exposed the soul of a tortured, lost man that was searching for the unknown. A great swell of pity consumed Lucy as she thought of what he was facing alone.

"Have a good night sleep, I will see you in the morning," she cheerily added as she opened the door.

Bucky was unsure on what to say, Lucy was perfectly communicating, something Bucky didn't exactly like doing. A part of him felt like he should thank her for what she had done for him today. After all, how many people would stay and help an injured assassin?

"Lucy," he called out, quickly formulating on what to say next.

Lucy's head popped around the door, "Yes?" she asked, surprised that he actually remembered her name.

"Thank-you," he murmured, dropping his eyes to the floor boards. He was never trained in being grateful, so he wasn't quite sure what to say.

"No problem, goodnight," she replied with a smile and closed the door gently behind her.

Silence filled the room when Lucy left. Something deep down made him feel uncomfortable about her walking home by herself at night. He wasn't quite sure where that feeling came from. He suspected it could be something coming from the person that he was, before he was a monster.

He was far too exhausted to deal with the horrors of confusion and flashbacks right now. He painfully reached for the lantern, and switched it off. He positioned the pillow behind his head, pulled the blanket across his legs and stared at the black ceiling.

He could feel his brain starting to stray away again, he slowly inhaled trying to force the horrors away. There was a faint feminine perfume coming from the pillow. It was sweet and soothing to the soul, calming his nerves effectively for him to relax. He wondered if this is what Lucy smelt like, the blissful smell was so faint, it was torturous.

He was grateful for Lucy and the help that she had given him, but would she still be so kind if she knew who he really was? Or perhaps she already did, and she was a spy sent to debrief him of information. Anything was a possibility, and Bucky knew better than to let his guard down. He wasn't going to trust her, no matter what she did.

 **Thank-you so much if you've read this chapter! It took me a little longer to write this one as it has been more fun writing the chapters ahead of this one, haha. I do promise you it gets more exciting!**

 **Now onto reviews! :)**

 **Bonnie Celt: Thank-you so much for your kind words Bonnie! I can't wait to continue the work as well haha! Thank-you!**


	4. Chapter 4

Light was creeping through the curtains in Lucy's bedroom, she rolled over searching for another pillow to block her vision from the intruder. She immediately sat up remembering that a man – Bucky – in her shack had her other pillow. She glanced at the analogue clocked and pouted at the results that displayed 6.45am.

She pushed herself from her bed and shuffled to the bathroom for a quick shower to wake her up for the day.

She noticed that she still wore the same clothes she had on yesterday. She was exhausted when she got back from the shack, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

After she finished the shower, she quickly put on a plain blue shirt, and jeans. She stepped over to the mirror and tied her hair in the usual boring pony tail and put on her silver watch. After that, she walked to the kitchen and began to cook bacon, eggs and toast for her and Bucky.

As she cooked, she thought about the peculiar events the previous day. She was struggling to get over the concept of the metal arm. How did it work, what did it do, many questions ran through her head that she doubt she'd ever get the answers to. She desperately wanted to know more about him, even though his face displayed torture, everything else about him was screaming dangerous.

She remembered the last thing Bucky said to her before she left the shack, he thanked her, genuinely. Dangerous men could never be capable of gratitude, even if their life depended on it. At heart, she didn't think Bucky was dangerous, there was more to him than what the eye could see.

When the food was finished cooking, she separated them evenly into two containers and then packed them in her backpack. When turned to the fridge to grab more bottles of water, she saw the unopened bottle of tropical juice in the door of her fridge. She decided to pack it, and two plastic cups.

When she was finished packing, she put on her backpack, grabbed her keys and left again for the shack. As she walked, she thought of nice, non invasive ways to ask about Bucky's life. She wasn't exactly good at socialising, she was a loner, the only friend she had was an old man that she looked after. She looked at her watch, it was 8 am already, she had to be back home by 9.30.

She decided to pack her art book, incase she needed to fill in time of quiet company.

Bucky disturbed awake when the sun crept through the boards on the windows. He didn't sleep well during the night, he kept waking from the combination of pain and every little sound.

When he was awake, he kept his eyes trained on the opposite wall. He needed to keep his mind distracted, he didn't want to fall victim to his memories. Whenever he could feel the tension rising, he would use his metal arm to make it go away. Physical pain was the only thing to successfully keep away the memories.

A faint knock sounded at the door, "It's me Lucy, can I come in?" she asked.

"Yes," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. Lucy slowly stepped inside letting in a gush of wind with her. The feint smell from the pillow last night suddenly dominated the room. It was soothing, however intoxicating.

Lucy studied Bucky, he had dark patches under his eyes meaning he didn't sleep very well. She slowly walked over and crouched beside him. Her eyes fell to the two unopened bottles of water.

"I brought breakfast, and I brought some juice," she said cheerily as she pulled out the food from her bag. She placed a cup in front of Bucky, and poured some juice. She then brought out his food, and began to cut it into bite sized pieces.

Bucky watched her every movement. He studied her up and down, she had loose red hair tied into a pony tail that fell on her right shoulder. She was quite thin, with random bits of muscle on her here and there.

After Lucy cut Bucky's food, she placed the fork on his container and shuffled against a wall to eat hers. Thankfully, the food wasn't cold, it still had some remains of warmth. Lucy recited the many different questions she thought of when she came to the shack, but she didn't have the confidence to ask any of them. She decided to bite the bullet and ask him…

"So, what's your story?" she asked, immediately regretting it. She had come up with alternate polite ways to ask him, but instead asked in the most abrupt way possible.

Bucky held the fork with a small piece of bacon on it, and twirled it above the container. "I don't know," he finally mumbled.

Lucy didn't expect him to speak at all, when he did, his response was even more surprising.

"What do you mean?" she asked, titling her head to the side. This was the most she had ever spoken to someone other than Mr Jones in a long time.

Bucky averted his gaze to Lucy, she appeared concerned. It reminded him of the man that claimed he was if friend. They both shared similar expressions, Bucky tried to swallow down the memories.

"I'm trying to remember, and forget," he said, dropping his eyes to the floor boards.

Lucy felt another swell of pity for him, she knew exactly what that was like. She dropped her eyes to her meal, and placed it on the ground and crawled to her backpack. She pulled out her art book, and a couple of pencils and placed them beside Bucky.

"Whenever I've wanted to remember something, I write it down, so I can't forget it again," she mumbled, looking at him with pity.

Bucky looked at the book and at Lucy. He hers glistened in the sunlight, such a bright hazel. She wasn't threatening at all, she wanted to genuinely help Bucky.

"Thank-you, I will," he said. Lucy moved back to her wall and finished eating her breakfast.

Once they were completed she packed everything in her bag and looked at the time. It was 9.15am.

"Well I need to get home and ready for work, I'll bring some meat and vegetables for dinner tonight?" she said holding the strap of her bag in her hand.

Bucky nodded. Lucy rose from her position, "Oh and can you make sure you drink your water, you need to stay hydrated," she said.

Bucky nodded again. "See you tonight," she said before closing the door. Bucky was again left in silence.

Last night he was left telling himself that he couldn't trust Lucy, but she displayed no signs to distrust her. He thought he wasn't ready to remember, but really he was just scared of being consumed. With the separation of mind and paper, maybe he could face it.

He picked up the book beside him, opened the book to an empty page and grabbed one of the pencils. He closed his eyes and embraced the memories. He wrote every scene and sound he saw. Many were of a small blonde boy, and others were the cries of those whom he had killed. He began to create a tally of all those he saw that he had killed, he was afraid of himself, afraid of how large the number was.

Lucy had to drive to Mr Jones' place today, she was running late – something she had never done. Which is why he was worried when she finally let herself through the door.

"Goodness girl, I thought something terrible had happened," cried the frail old voice from the lounge room.

Lucy set her car keys and bag beside the door, and placed her coat on the hanger.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I lost track of time," she said before switching on the kettle to make Mr Jones's usual morning tea. While she waited for the kettle to boil, she gathered his medication from the cabinet and filled a small glass of water. She took them out on a tray and set them on the table beside Mr Jones.

"You've never been late be-" Mr Jones paused, and cheekily smiled. His soft brown eyes glint with happiness. Lucy knew that cheeky smile look all too well.

"You've met someone," he continued, the wrinkles of his face framing a sweet smile.

Lucy went a bright shade of red, and held out his medication.

"No I haven't," she said as she fed Mr Jones the medication, and let him sip the glass of water. She was always amazed at his ability to read her like or book.

"Oh right, and the sky isn't blue?" he teased slipped another cheeky smile.

Lucy playfully rolled her eyes and took the medication back to kitchen and finished making his tea.

"I suppose you'll tell me all about him when you're ready," he cried out.

"I seriously doubt it," she playfully muttered under her breath. Although he was a ninety year old man, Mr Jones was very protective of Lucy. He treated her like she was a daughter, and if he knew that she was caring for a shifty man in her shack, he would be the least bit supportive.

Lucy's job was to care for Mr Jones, by cooking, cleaning and general care. She loved spending her time with Mr Jones, even though she was only scheduled to look after him every second day, she sometimes came in more than she was needed to.

However, Mr Jones was getting to the age where he was needing permanent 24 hour care. Despite her many offers to have him move in with her, Mr Jones refused and said it was his time to go to a home. So her job as of recently was sorting and packing his possessions.

Today it was her job to sort through his old clothing that he kept from his younger days. Even though they smelt like mothballs, they were in very good condition. She stretched out a beautiful deep blue shirt and examined it objectively. She thought of how Bucky had no clothing, other than the wet outfit he arrived it. The blue shirt would perfectly suite the shade of Bucky's eyes.

"What would you like to do with all these clothes?" she asked, holding some of the items in her arms.

"If they're any good, it'd be nice to donate them to charity," he said.

"Do you mind if I keep some?" she asked. Mr Jones looked at her with the playful grin.

"Of course dear, are they for your mystery man?" he asked playfully. Lucy looked at him with a playful stare and walked back to the cabinet.

"There is no mystery man," she called out setting a couple of the items for Bucky aside. She could hear Mr Jones laughing from his seat watching his telly. He was enjoying every moment of teasing her, after all, he'd never had the chance to before, he was making the most of it.

It was 3pm and it was time for Lucy to leave, she walked up to Mr Jones and kissed him on the cheek goodbye, and left with a cheeky comment of, "have fun with mystery man."

Lucy was looking forward to going back to Bucky, she was looking forward to giving him the clothes that she had saved for him. Two blue shirts, one red, and two blue jeans and one black pair.

When she arrived home, she went straight to work on cooking dinner for her and Bucky. Tonight it was going to be steak, mashed potato, peas and carrots.

She wondered how Bucky's injuries were going, and made a mental note to check on them when she arrived at the shack.

When she finished cooking dinner, she eagerly packed them in her bag, packed a shirt and pair of jeans. She realised that she didn't have any underwear for him to wear, and blushed a little. She may need to go shopping for those. She left the house and made way for the shack. The sun wasn't due to set for another two hours.

Bucky had been spending the last few hours trying to remember his past, he had filled many pages with notes about growing up, the war, and becoming the Winter Soldier. Dealing with the memories and torture of being the Winter Soldier were the hardest to deal with.

They were going to wipe him again, he hated being wiped, it was absolute immeasurable pain, nothing he had ever experienced hurt as much as that process. He was fighting of the guards, he snapped the neck of one, shot two and was tackled from behind by another.

Bucky rose from the floor and his metal arm punched a hole through the wall of the shack, the sounds reminding him of the explosions of the war. Her heard a cry and someone crept up on him from behind, he grabbed them by neck and held them up off the ground against the wall.

He was horror stricken when he realised it was Lucy, he immediately let go and she fell to the floor. Containers and clothes fell from Lucy's backpack as she clutched her neck and choked for air. He felt horrible, this feeling was worse than being wiped, he'd just hurt the only person that had showed him an inkling of care. He stepped over to help her but she scurried away, looking at him in fear. He had seen the look in people more times than he'd like to count.


End file.
